Cradle of Family
by brandnewx3
Summary: "I miss the cradle of family. I miss the comfort of home." A song fic based off the song "Cradle of Family" by the band Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Pretty Little Liars, and I do not own the song Cradle of Family, by the band Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers.  
**  
Author's Note: Yes, another song fic. But I had to get this out, it was picking at my brain somewhat. :]  
I love the band Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers. Definitely music you should look into.

* * *

**Cradle Of Family**

  
_I flew in dirty like a word from a murderous mouth_  
_The news came to me, I'd been too long South_

You were merely 21 and had just given birth to our daughter.  
I had missed it because I had been on a book tour to promote my brand new novel. A step up from the short stories and poetry format that I had been accustomed to and gained popularity for.

_Things had changed in the days of my sleep_  
_Do whatever he says and ignore the creep_

All I kept thinking of was heading home to you. Ignore my literary agent and come straight home to you and our daughter. But you told me to stay, "Its your dream Ezra. And we need the money."

So I stayed. Because you told me to.

_She looked at me like I was jailbait; _  
_her smile was more like a sneer_

When I came home, it wasn't exactly a welcome. You had spent three weeks alone without me. You were upset that I wasn't there to help you.

_Laced up with a touch of hate, _  
_when that smile used to be so clear_

"What happened to the beautiful, happy woman I fell in love with?"

"News flash, she married her teacher and had a kid right out of college and you weren't even here!"

_Not sure what would happen yet, I ordered from the bar_  
_I know that I'm not perfect but you are, who you are_

So the second place I went to, after returning home, was Snooker's. I ordered Scotch. You loathed scotch. But you loved that I could stand something so vile.

_I miss the cradle of family_  
_I miss the comfort of home_

I missed who we use to be. The comfort of having you near. I missed being home.

_I miss the way that I used to be_  
_More then I have missed being alone_

Some days I wished I didn't write. I wished it didn't force me to do things like book tours and fan meet and greets. I missed where it was just you and me, where no one else mattered.

_But you just had to go there and you knew I would resist_  
_Like do I ever think about babies that do not exist?_

I came home to you, hoping that my drunkenness wasn't nearly as noticeable as the smell on my breath.

You tore into me. Asked if I even cared. If I was going to be like this in the future; would I miss more births and go out drinking when I was home.

_You were calling me out on things I did when I was young_  
_Imagine being held accountable for everything that you have ever done?_

Hurt. And hurt it had. Drinking had been a thing that I had picked up in college. I left most of it in college. But some of that evil poison had slipped through the cracks. Tempting me when I was stressed, when I was down. When you were mad at me.

_I miss the comfort of a lovers bed_  
_I miss the girl that I once knew_

I'd rather I had those days when we first came out to your parents. Right after they eventually excepted that their baby girl was growing up and got into something so wonderful, yet so taboo, that she just couldn't get out of. You were heading off to college, and they couldn't stop you. We spent so much of that time in peaceful comfort, you opened up to me about many things and I to you.

_I miss the idea we created in our heads_  
_More then I have ever missed you_

But maybe getting involved with me, your 11th grade English teacher, wasn't the best decision. Sure it was sort of romantic and thrilling. We thought we would live happily ever after. But things changed. I, you, us. I hate when you hate me.

_I can't believe, the secrets that I keep_  
_The scars that you can see_

I'd never really tell you these things. But I assume they are just as visible on the outside as they are on the inside. Spoken words aren't needed for us to understand each other.

_Are nothing like the ones we have unleashed_

We've brought a child into this world, and at the most inopportune time. When we are at battle almost every other day. She shouldn't have to put up with the hateful antics of her parents.

_Like St. Augustine before me, I am sorry for my sins_  
_But I have no regrets about the places I have been_

We have been wrong according to normally accepted standards. Sin, some may call it. And I apologize for it. I apologize for putting you through all of this.

But regret is not something I use lightly. I do not regret falling in love with you. I'm sorry for how things had went since. I do not regret writing, and do not regret putting out beautifully written stories, most inspired by you, but I am sorry for what it has done to us, done to our family.

_There's no way I can say I'm sorry _  
_for the things that you decide to do_

But I can not show my apologies properly. Not when I have to do things like this and come home to you hating me. Which is the worse thing in the world.

_I guess you went for money; I just had to get away from you_

And sometimes its better being alone when that happens. Hate is not something I deal with well.

_I miss the innocence of purity_  
_I miss the things I never had_

Sometimes I think I ruined you. Forcing you into a life that I did not wish for you: hiding, secrecy, relationship with someone as emotionally crippled as me.

_I miss the way that I used to be_  
_Before you ever got to my head _

I missed the times when we were in love. And you did not hate me for the things I did.


End file.
